chapter 5: gossip and glamour

Draco's annoyance at Nell's decision to help the trio with the pixie situation lasted only until their first Herbology lesson. The class was moving on to Greenhouse Three for the year, which hosted a variety of plants that were considered too dangerous for first-years, which meant an exciting chance to see a new part of Hogwarts for the students.

Professor Sprout explained to the class full of second-year Slytherins and Ravenclaws that the main thing they'd be studying this year would be mandrake roots, and how to grow them from infancy. Over the past year, as Ron had explained to Eleanor in a letter over the summer, there had been a spat of flus in the wizarding community that could only be combated with a specific potion that was primarily composed of mandrake root. As such, the wizarding world was short on supply, and Professor Sprout saw it as an excellent opportunity for a project.

So they began their year with repotting the baby mandrakes. Draco's sudden warming to Nell happened after he had stuck his gloved finger in one of the baby mandrake's mouths, causing the thing to clamp its sharp little teeth to him. When Nell helped wrestle the baby root off, all grudges were forgotten.

Spurred by her success in speaking again with Draco, she attempted at dinner that night to understand where his sudden moodiness had come from. But when they were surrounded by their fellow Slytherins, Draco's spirits ran high. Eleanor found it a lot harder to accuse Draco of being rude and surly when he was doubled over laughing at Blaise's impression of Lockhart during the pixie incident.

Eleanor woke early on Saturday morning, the first day of quidditch practice for Slytherin, and therefore the first practice with Draco on the team as seeker. He had told her on Friday that the team would be holding a special training session for him. When she told him she'd be there, excited to cheer him on in support, he smiled in a way that made him look several years younger. Never wanting to give too much, though, Nell qualified her offer by informing Draco this would be the one and only practice she would ever sit in on, and he shouldn't expect her to start wasting her Saturdays away by watching a sport she could never play. Afterall, her lessons were certainly no easier this year, and she already predicted for herself many long days holed up in the library during the upcoming year.

With a few textbooks tucked into her bag, Eleanor trudged out across the dewey fields of Hogwarts Grounds to the quidditch pitch. A heavy mist hung in the morning air, and she could feel the beginnings of autumn chill brisk against her cheek.

It was likely due to this heavy mist that Eleanor did not notice Ron and Hermione already sat in the spectator's stands.

"Oh!" Nell said the second she laid eyes on the vibrantly orange hair, "What are you two doing out here?"

"Nell? We're here to watch Gryffindor practice," Ron explained, through a mouthful of toast, making Eleanor regret skipping breakfast. " Obviously… why are you here?"

"Gryffindor?" Eleanor asked. "Isn't it Slytherin that's meant to practice today?"

"No," Ron said. "It's definitely Gryffindor. Look – there's them now." Ron pointed out onto the field, and, sure enough, the red and gold clad team was ambling its way across the field, broomsticks in hand.

"We've been here for ages," Hermione explained. "Harry left the dormitory quite a while ago; I've no idea why they're only now making it out to the pitch."

"Aren't you finished yet?" called Ron incredulously to the team.

"Haven't even started," said Harry, yelling back. "Wood's been teaching us new moves."

Eleanor bit her lip. "I must have had the time wrong," she said, though a bit relieved, as she realized she might get a chance to scoop up some breakfast now. "Do you know when Slytherin is meant to practice?"

"How on earth we would know that?" Ron said.

Eleanor rolled her eyes.

"Why are you watching the Slytherin team practice?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I didn't take you for a fan," Ron added.

"Why's that?" Eleanor asked defensively.

"I thought Icaris couldn't play," he said.

Hermione elbowed him.

"What?" he said to her. "It's true."

Nell sighed. "No we can't," she said, sitting down beside Hermione. "I'm… um– I was coming to support Draco, actually."

Ron groaned. "Malfoy's trying out?"

"Uh–"

But before Eleanor had to answer, she saw the boy himself striding out to the pitch in tow with the rest of the Slytherin team.

"Oh no," Hermione said. "This won't be good." She shot up, and Nell and Ron followed as they ran from the stands to meet the two converging teams.

They reached the ground right as the Gryffindor team did, led by the captain, who Nell distantly remembered was called Oliver Wood.

"Flint!" Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!

Marcus Flint was even larger than Wood. He had a look of cunning on his face as he replied, "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood." Nell remembered Pansy once calling him handsome, but, from here, she couldn't quite tell what Pansy had seen in him.

"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. ' I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker'. "

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Wood, distracted. "Where?"

And Draco emerged from the group, his sharp smirk directed at Harry.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" said Fred, looking at Malfoy with dislike.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindors' noses in the early morning sun. This must have been what Draco had meant when he said his father helped secure his spot. As Nell had expected, she found it a bit lame, but this was mostly because she had been convinced that Draco could have made it on the team without any help from his father.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps" — he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching tattered old brooms —"sweeps the board with them."

Nell watched the blush that rose over the Weasley twins' faces. She remembered Draco's and Mr. Malfoy's comments about the Weasleys and how they were quite poor. It seemed the whole family tended to bristle intensely whenever that fact was brought up. She understood where they were coming from, having once been ashamed as well at the lack of money her family had, and their inability to purchase anything new or fancy. But after a year of Draco Malfoy's incessant comments about her financial status, Nell had developed an odd sort of pride in being poor that she hadn't expected.

This wasn't to say that she wouldn't mind a sudden windfall of riches, of course, but she no longer felt any shame in her patchy robes or her father's rugged hands and the perpetual oil stains adorned on them. She wished there was a way for her to project this feeling outward to the Weasley twins, or at least for her to say something to remind them that there were more important things to be bothered over. Or, at least, to tell Fred she didn't mind one bit if his broom was somewhat old.

"Good, aren't they?" said Malfoy smoothly, as the Gryffindor team stared open-mouthed at the brand new brooms. "But perhaps the Gryffindors will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."

The Slytherins laughed, and Nell rolled her eyes. Afterall, this was just Draco being Draco, wasn't it? She never took him seriously when he got like this, and neither should any of them. But she wasn't quite sure if they knew that.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," said Hermione sharply. "They got in on pure talent."

Oh no . Eleanor watched Draco's face fall and his eyes shoot to Marcus Flint nervously. Hermione probably could not have said anything worse in that moment.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," Draco spat.

Eleanor gasped, feeling like she had just been punched in the gut. Draco had called Hermione, their friend , about the meanest thing you could call a muggleborn witch. Nell was dumbfounded.

"Draco!" she shouted, her voice reacting before her brain had. But her shout was only one of many, as Fred and George lunged, and Ron reached for his wand.

"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" Ron shouted and pointed it furiously under Flint's arm at Draco's face.

Before Nell could do anything to intervene, a loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" squealed Hermione.

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead he gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap.

Nell grimaced, no longer missing breakfast, and turned her eyes back to Draco. She had always known that he had never been necessarily kind, and she knew how the pureblood politics warped his way of thinking, but she never could have imagined that he would have shouted something like that at Hermione. And for it, she suddenly felt like she had never known him at all.

The rest of the Slytherin team was busy roaring with laughter at Ron's misfired spell, but Draco stared back at Eleanor, as if waiting for something.

"We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest," said Harry to Hermione, who nodded bravely, and the pair of them pulled Ron up by the arms.

Colin Creevy, the boy with the camera from earlier in the week, shot down from his place on the stands, shouting, "What happened, Harry? What happened? Is he ill? But you can cure him, can't you?"

But Eleanor's eyes stayed steady in the staring match between her and Draco. She felt very suddenly like she had found herself standing on the edge of a precipice, and she could no longer hide from the choice before her. The question that had been lingering distantly in her mind for many months had snuck up in the present moment, and she realized that she now had to finally make a decision about it. She had to pick where she stood, between her best friend and their house, or the ideals of what she thought was right. And she could no longer hide in thinking that she could have both, or that the two sides did not contradict each other, opposite ends pulling her violently apart.

In the misty morning air, she wondered if her mother ever had a choice like this. Did she ever doubt?

Eleanor would probably always have doubts. But she knew in her heart where her loyalty truly stood. It wasn't with Ron or Hermione, or even Harry Potter, the symbol of all that was good. But it also wasn't with Draco Malfoy and his pureblood politics or the green and silver of her Hogwarts House, chosen for her in the magic of a hat, who could read deep into her soul, weaved together with ambition and determination.

No, Eleanor's loyalty, the vibrant thread that coursed so strongly in her, was always and had always been to only one person. Herself. And the moral compass inside that told her that whoever it might be on either end of this brewing war did not matter. It wouldn't affect how Nell knew in her heart that wizards were no better than muggles, and blood politics were wrong, and mudblood was an awful, horrible word.

She knew where she stood, and what path she would take.

She turned away from Draco's heavy stare and ran off to follow Harry and Hermione as they carried Ron to Hagrid's hut.

"Wait up!" she yelled, and they paused their awkward amble.

" What?! What do you want?" Harry demanded with malice.

"To help Ron," Nell said simply.

"In case you've forgotten, that was your friend and your house," Harry snapped, as Ron heaved out another slug.

"That might be my house, but those aren't my opinions," Nell said. "What Malfoy said was horrible, and I don't agree with any of it. I'm sorry, Hermione."

Ron belched through another slug and Nell grimaced.

"Let's just go!" Hermione shouted. "We're nearly there."

They maneuvered Ron forward, but were interrupted as Gilderoy Lockhart emerged from Hagrid's Hut.

Nell groaned.

"Quick, behind here," Harry hissed, dragging Ron behind a nearby bush, and Eleanor close behind. Hermione followed as well, though with some reluctance.

"It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing!" Lockhart was saying loudly to Hagrid. "If you need help, you know where I am! I'll let you have a copy of my book. I'm surprised you haven't already got one — I'll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, good-bye!" And he strode away toward the castle.

"I swear, that man always manages to show up when I'm having the worst time," Nell whispered.

" You're having the worst—" Ron started but was interrupted by another slug ejecting from his mouth.

"Oh, you know what I mean," Nell said with a reluctant pat to Ron's back.

Harry waited until Lockhart was out of sight, then pulled Ron out of the bush and up to Hagrid's front door. They knocked urgently.

Hagrid appeared at once, looking very grumpy, but his expression brightened when he saw who it was.

"Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me — come in, come in — thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again —"

The three of them supported Ron over the threshold into the one-roomed cabin, which had an enormous bed in one corner, a fire crackling merrily in the other. Hagrid didn't seem perturbed by Ron's slug problem, which Harry hastily explained as he lowered Ron into a chair.

"Better out than in," he said cheerfully, plunking a large copper basin in front of him. "Get 'em all up, Ron."

"I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop," said Hermione anxiously, watching Ron bend over the basin. "That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand —"

"How'd his wand break?" Nell asked.

"The Whomping Willow," Harry answered. "You know, the one we so clearly wanted to crash into."

"Oh," Nell said, ignoring Harry's sarcasm and patting Ron on the back. She thought Ron's situation was quite like one she had been in herself a couple of years ago when she had gotten food poisoning and her father had to take the day off from work to help her through it. They watched movies and he brushed her hair back, minor comforts that managed to ease her suffering immensely.

Hagrid began preparing tea, and Fang slobbered over Harry.

"What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?" Harry asked, scratching Fang's ears.

"Givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well," growled Hagrid, moving a half-plucked rooster off his scrubbed table and setting down the teapot. "Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle."

"I agree! Everything he's ever said is complete and total rubbish," Nell shot. "I despise him, Hagrid."

Hagrid laughed, his eyes a bit surprised, and turned to Nell. "I didn' think yeh hated anyone."

Hermione added, "Nell has this whole thing… and I think you're all being a bit unfair. Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job —"

"He was the on'y man for the job," said Hagrid, offering them a plate of treacle fudge, while Ron coughed squelchily into his basin. "An' I mean the on'y one. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now."

"Anyone else would have been better. Even my father could probably teach a better class than Lockhart and he's a muggle," Nell said.

Hagrid laughed. "So tell me," he said, jerking his head at Ron. "Who was he tryin' ter curse?"

"Malfoy called Hermione something — it must've been really bad, because everyone went wild," Harry said.

"It was bad," Nell said, ashamed. "I… I mean Draco's never been, well…"

"Malfoy called her 'Mudblood,' Hagrid —" said Ron hoarsely, emerging over the tabletop looking pale and sweaty.

Ron dived out of sight again as a fresh wave of slugs made their appearance.

Hagrid looked outraged. "He didn'!" he growled at Hermione.

"He did," she said. "But I don't know what it means. I could tell it was really rude, of course —"

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," gasped Ron, coming back up. "Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born — you know, non-magic parents. There are some wizards — like Malfoy's family — who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood." He gave a small burp, and a single slug fell into his outstretched hand. He threw it into the basin and continued, "I mean, the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all. Look at Neville Longbottom — he's pure-blood and he can hardly stand a cauldron the right way up."

"An' they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can' do," said Hagrid proudly, making Hermione go a brilliant shade of magenta.

"It's something that Death Eaters said," Nell added. They looked up at her, and Nell realized she had never discussed her mother with any of them, beyond her questions about the mysterious box. She sighed, but continued, "My… my dad said my mother didn't tell him much about the war and what she did and all. But he told me that she once explained to him that wizards have their own sort of racism based around blood purity. And that word was part of it. She explained that it's a way for wizards to distinguish themselves as superior, just by nature of how they were born."

"It's a disgusting thing to call someone," said Ron, wiping his sweaty brow with a shaking hand. "Dirty blood, see. Common blood. It's ridiculous. Most wizards these days are half-blood anyway. If we hadn't married Muggles we'd've died out."

He retched and ducked out of sight again.

"I mean, look at me," Nell laughed. "Clearly even my mother's politics only went so far."

Hagrid smiled. "Everyone's always wondered, yeh know… what it were abou' yer dad to make Ottilie change."

Nell shrugged. "My dad's the best person I've ever met. I think it's actually pretty simple."

Hagrid smiled again, before turning back to Ron. "Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse him, Ron," said Hagrid loudly over the thuds of more slugs hitting the basin. "Bu' maybe it was a good thing yer wand backfired. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed his son. Least yer not in trouble."

"He's… not a very nice man," Nell said.

"Yer can say tha' again," Hagrid said.

"You know… I think Lucius Malfoy doesn't quite like me either," Nell said, relieved to admit the thought she had back at Diagon Alley in the presence of these four people.

"I'm not so surprised abou' tha'" Hagrid said.

"Because I'm half blood?" Nell asked.

"No – because yer mother and how she wen' against You-Know-Who," Hagrid said. "The Malfoys may have said they didn' mean any of it after he fell, but we all know tha's a load of rubbish. I'm sure Lucius Malfoy doesn' want his precious son befriendin' the daughter of the woman tha' betrayed his master."

"Oh…" Nell said. "I… I did wonder. Draco told me last year their issue was my dad."

"I mean, it probably don' help," Hagrid said. "But I 'spect yer mum is the real issue. Oh, by the way, have yeh figured out tha' box you got from her yet?"

Nell shook her head.

"Ah… oh well," Hagrid said, before turning to Harry quickly as though struck by a sudden thought. "Harry — Gotta bone ter pick with yeh. I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?"

Fuming, Harry wrenched his mouth open from the treacle tart.

"I have not been giving out signed photos," he said hotly. "If Lockhart's still spreading that around —"

But Hagrid was laughing. "I'm on'y jokin'," he said, patting Harry genially on the back and sending him face first into the table. "I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn' need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryin'."

"Bet he didn't like that," said Harry, sitting up and rubbing his chin.

"Don' think he did," said Hagrid, his eyes twinkling. "An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go. Treacle fudge, Ron?" he added as Ron reappeared.

"No thanks," said Ron weakly. "Better not risk it."

"Come an' see what I've bin growin'," said Hagrid as Harry, Eleanor, and Hermione finished the last of their tea.

In the small vegetable patch behind Hagrid's house were a dozen of the largest pumpkins Nell had ever seen. Each was the size of a large boulder. Nell wondered what kind of jack-o-lanterns she could make with a pumpkin like that.

"Gettin' on well, aren't they?" said Hagrid happily. "Fer the Halloween feast… should be big enough by then."

"What've you been feeding them?" said Harry.

Hagrid looked over his shoulder to check that they were alone. "Well, I've bin givin' them — you know — a bit o' help —"

"An Engorgement Charm, I suppose?" said Hermione, halfway between disapproval and amusement. "Well, you've done a good job on them."

"That's what yer little sister said," said Hagrid, nodding at Ron. "Met her jus' yesterday." Hagrid looked sideways at Harry, his beard twitching. "Said she was jus' lookin' round the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin' she might run inter someone else at my house." He winked at Harry. "If yeh ask me, she wouldn' say no ter a signed —"

"Oh, shut up," said Harry.

Ron snorted with laughter and the ground was sprayed with slugs.

"Watch it!" Hagrid roared, pulling Ron away from his precious pumpkins.

Together, they walked up to the castle for lunch, though the whole slug incident had really ruined any appetite Nell might have had. Before they could get very far into the castle, however, they were interrupted.

"There you are, Potter — Weasley." Professor McGonagall was walking toward them, looking stern. "You will both do your detentions this evening."

"What're we doing, Professor?" said Ron, nervously suppressing a burp.

"You will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch," said Professor McGonagall. "And no magic, Weasley — elbow grease."

Ron gulped. Argus Filch, the caretaker, was loathed by every student in the school.

"And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail," said Professor McGonagall.

Nell felt a wave of sympathy for Harry, and once again reaffirmed her commitment to never receive detention at Hogwarts, lest she have to spend an evening with Lockhart herself. Last year, Malfoy had to spend his detention in the Forbidden Forest, which was quite terrifying because of the deadly danger it presented with all that lurked within. Though, now, Nell wasn't sure which she'd rather do less.

"Oh n — Professor, can't I go and do the trophy room, too?" said Harry desperately.

"Certainly not," said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. "Professor Lockhart requested you particularly. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you."

Harry and Ron slouched into the Great Hall in states of deepest gloom, Hermione behind them, wearing a well-you-did-break-school-rules sort of expression. But before Nell could follow, she found herself hanging back.

Hermione turned around to her. "Would you like to study with me today in the library?"

Nell shook her head. "I dunno… after this morning with Malfoy, I kind of need to clear my head a bit."

Hermione looked at her disapprovingly, but didn't comment, as the three Gryffindors departed for lunch. Nell turned to walk back to her common room. She needed some time alone to go over what had happened, and what it meant for her and Draco's friendship. If it even still existed.

However, before she could make it very far, she heard the loud yelling voice of Moaning Myrtle, the ghost of a young girl that usually haunted the second-floor girl's bathroom. It was strange to hear her elsewhere in the castle, so Eleanor, interested in the mystery, followed the sound. She found the noise coming from the girl's bathroom on the ground floor, and she ducked her head in to see what was happening.

Inside the bathroom, Daphne Greengrass was sat on a small stone bench, watching helplessly as Myrtle floated around her. One look at Daphne's face told Eleanor everything she needed to know.

"And, of course , once again not a single person in this whole entire school cares about poor ugly Moaning Myrtle," languished the ghost. "I've already heard the fifth year Ravenclaws warning the newest students not to go into my bathroom! ' Don't go in there! ' they say, ' don't get caught in one of Myrtle's moods !'"

"Daphne!" Nell called out, interrupting the ghost. "Professor Snape is looking for us."

Daphne stood up at once. "I'm so sorry, Myrtle. I'll see you soon!"

Myrtle sighed dramatically, floating against the sinks. "So they all say…"

Daphne and Eleanor rushed away, the door clicking shut behind them.

"Does Professor—"

"No," Nell said, smiling. "You just looked in need of a rescue."

"Oh! Nell, you're the best," Daphne said with a giggle and a toss of her long strawberry blonde hair. "Last time I tried to leave in the middle of one of her whinging sessions, she tortured me for a month by setting all the sinks to douse me with water any time I tried to wash my hands."

"Classic Myrtle," Nell said. "What was she doing on the ground floor?"

"I've no idea," Daphne said. "I only stopped in there for a moment on my way out of the castle and there she was."

"Suppose nowhere's safe anymore."

"We're basically doomed."

"Alright, well…" Eleanor said, coming to a stop. "I was actually on my way back to the common room."

"Oh okay," Daphne said, looking down at her feet.

A bit surprised by her reaction, Nell said, "Where were you going? Out of the castle, I mean."

Daphne blushed, and Nell noticed again how beautiful the girl was. Even embarrassment looked good on her. "Well… actually, I was going to go practice some ballet on the grounds. I've done ballet for years before I came to Hogwarts, but I got really rusty after not doing it at all last year, and I don't want that to happen again. I was thinking about adding some practice to my weekends."

"Sounds like fun," Nell said.

"Well, yes," Daphne said, though she sounded unconvinced. She paused, then looked up at Nell. "Is… is there any chance you'd like to join me? Just for today?"

"Me?"

"Yes," she said. "It's just… Well, honestly I feel a bit weird out there all on my own. It'd be really nice having someone else around for this first practice so I don't look looney."

Nell smiled. "I don't think you'd ever look looney."

Daphne laughed, before fixing her big eyes again on Nell's. "Oh, please? Don't make me beg."

And how could Nell say no to that?

They walked together out to the edges of the grounds, talking absently about classes. Daphne searched, and eventually settled on a suitable patch of land, flat and with plenty of space. She produced a small flute from her pockets and set it on the ground. With idle grace, she spoke a spell that Nell didn't recognize and the flute began a gentle tune.

Nell sat on the ground with her back against a tree, and decided to use the time practicing a few shrinking charms on some nearby rocks.

Daphne began stretching. "So, how has your Saturday been so far?" she asked. "You know, apart from having to rescue me from the castle's scariest ghost."

Nell giggled. "It's… it's been a bit shite, actually."

Daphne frowned. "Why's that?"

Nell looked at the girl and wondered how much she could trust to her. Daphne had always been nice, and was quite knowledgeable when it came to their fellow students. Perhaps she might be of some help in working through everything that had happened, or she might have some good advice on the type of relationship complexities that felt far beyond what Nell could handle alone. Afterall, Nell knew there was no point in trying to keep the story out of the Hogwarts gossip mill. By Monday, she was sure everyone at school would know what had happened.

Nell explained the whole morning to Daphne, all the way from waking up early to go out to the pitch, to watching Ron puke up slugs in Hagrid's house. She left out the conversation about her mother, though, as she wasn't quite sure where Daphne would stand on all of that.

"Oh… you're right. That is quite awful," Daphne said once Nell had finished.

"Which part?" Nell asked, fearful that Daphne may have no qualms with Draco's actions. Not only was Daphne a Slytherin, but Nell knew she was from a pureblood family, and a wealthy one at that. That kind of combination usually puts someone on the opposite side of where Nell had determined she belonged this morning.

"All of it," Daphne said. "Especially what Draco said. I mean… I suppose I'm not exactly surprised after everything that happened this summer, but still. It's quite a rude thing to say."

"Are you talking about the raids?" Nell asked.

Daphne moved on from stretching to dancing, a quick little step that looked effortlessly graceful. "Yes, the raids definitely played a part in causing more than one unhappy summer." She paused, seeming to regard Nell quickly, before continuing, "But there is a little bit more to it."

"What's that?" Nell asked, suddenly quite grateful that Myrtle had picked that day to hold Daphne hostage and ripe for the rescuing.

"It's only a bit of gossip," Daphne said. "My mother… well, as you know she knows just about a little bit of everything. You see, she makes these really wonderful cosmetic potions, like the one I used in your hair last year, do you remember? Well, she's a bit known for it, you see, and it means that there's a lot of pureblood witches coming in and out of our house asking for them. And, well, as you might expect, there's nothing pureblood witches like better than gossiping over a cauldron.

"Anyway, she told me that the Malfoys were quite upset with Draco when he returned home from Hogwarts at the start of the summer. You see, a few of the other pureblood families with children in Slytherin, like the Crabbes and the Notts, heard from their kids that Draco had been spending a lot of time, er…" Daphne paused, a bit awkwardly. "Well, with you, actually. And of course, you spend quite a bit of time with that Gryffindor that Draco had insulted… Hermione Granger. And, as you know, she's a muggleborn. And she's always with Ron Weasley, and, well I suppose you are too, sometimes."

"So it's just blood purity stuff?" Nell asked. "It really is nothing more than those politics?"

"Yes, I suppose. In a way, at least, to the parents. Er, Draco's parents, I mean."

"But… what about to Draco? You think that's why he said that to Hermione?" Nell asked.

Daphne thought for a moment. "Well, I do think he shares his parents' opinions at least a bit regarding blood purity. But I think Draco's real problem with Hermione Granger is that she beat him for top of the class."

"That's why he insulted her?"

"Well, that and… I mean, you said that the whole Slytherin team was there, right? If Draco insulted Hermione Granger in front of all of them, especially by calling her… well, by calling her that word — I think he's probably hoping that the story will make it back to his parents. If Draco is friendly with you, and you're friendly with Hermione… by proxy it makes him friendly with her, so he needed to prove that he wasn't, I think."

Nell decided not to mention that, for a bit, Draco had been friendly with Hermione all on his own.

Daphne continued, "I mean… I know that the Malfoys spent quite a bit of the summer going around trying to convince everyone that their perfect son wasn't turning into some sort of blood traitor because of all the gossip about who he was seen hanging around with last year. Draco's just keeping up with appearances — trying to undo some of those rumors. At least, I think."

"But Crabbe and Theo weren't even there."

"The Slytherin quidditch team has plenty of members who would be more than happy to report back to their parents. Or, well, even tell the other Slytherins. Anything that happens here at Hogwarts makes its way back to the parents in some way or another."

"And you?"

Daphne smiled, as though she had been expecting this question. "Mum doesn't much care who I spend time with, as long as my studies don't fall behind. My family might be pureblood, but we aren't exactly like how the Malfoys are."

"Like the Weasleys, then? Or the Bones?" Nell asked.

Daphne grimaced a bit. "I wouldn't go that far. Call it more neutral."

Nell hummed, thinking, and feeling perhaps a bit awful. "I feel like this is all my fault or something."

Daphne smiled sympathetically. "Well… sure, I guess so. I mean, you could blame it all on yourself if you wanted to, but I think it's quite a bit obvious that Draco had his own role to play in this. He certainly hasn't budged on his stance on you and that's half of why his parents were so angry. You do know if he decided to just end whatever it is that's between you two, then he'd probably never have to worry about his parents again. But, clearly, that's a line in the sand he's not willing to cross. I mean… I always assumed that there was something more, maybe…"

Nell groaned. "Trust me, Draco and I are just friends… or, I guess we were just friends."

"Oh!" Daphne said. "Well… Pansy will be happy to hear that." Then she blushed a deep red and stopped dancing, her eyes wide and fixed on Nell. "Oh! Pretend I didn't just say that, please!"

Nell smiled. "Your secret's safe with me. Or… Pansy's secret, I guess."

Daphne returned to her complicated dance.

"I… I thought the Malfoys had a problem with me because of…" Nell paused. "Well, because of my mother, actually."

"Oh, right. Your mother… Ottilie something, right?"

"You mean you don't know?" Nell asked, surprised.

"Not really…"

Nell's eyebrows furrowed. "I thought everyone knew about my mother."

"I mean, I didn't know about your mother just from your name or anything, if that's what you're getting at. I actually had to ask my mum about it last year after I overheard Draco after the sorting. My mum explained a little bit, how your mum was a Death Eater, died a while ago after she went against You-Know-Who and all that… but I don't think much of that is very common knowledge."

Nell felt very strange indeed. "But Draco knew, just from my name. And so did Hermione Granger." Nell thought of Susan Bones and Hagrid and Theodore Nott. They had all known, hadn't they?

"Well, let's see… Hermione Granger knows just about everything, and the Malfoys… well let's just say that they know everything about anything to do with You-Know-Who."

"Oh."

"All I mean to say is that most pureblood parents probably know or have some idea since in one way or another a lot of them were involved in the war," Daphne explained. "But those sorts of details, like your name, and your connection… I feel like those are the parts that usually get lost to time. Like, nobody will ever forget the name Harry Potter , but people may forget some of the other details, like which families fought on which side, and which didn't fight at all. I'm sure you aren't able to name all of our classmates whose parents fought against the Death Eaters, are you?"

"Er… well, no. But that's because I don't know anything."

Daphne laughed hard, seeming to think Nell was joking.

"How do you know so much?" Nell asked.

"I told you — my mum. I'm a very curious person when it comes to people, you know," Daphne explained with a smile.

"I should have asked you all of this ages ago," Nell said, thinking back to all the days she spent confused and distracted, too busy worrying about the status of her own morality than about the very real politics laced deep into the fabric of the world to which she now belonged.

Daphne laughed. "I thought you didn't like me!"

"What?!" Nell gasped. "I've always liked you!"

"Well, you did ditch me in Potions last year…"

"Oh! Oh no— that was only because Draco agreed to tutor me."

"Ah," Daphne said. "That's surprisingly generous of him."

"I'm sorry," Nell said, but Daphne shook her head.

"I'm just glad we're talking now."

And Eleanor was too.

[A/N]: Hello! If you're reading along, I would really love to know what you think so far! I love hearing from anyone following along what your thoughts are :) Hope you enjoyed this chapter!